


That I Were a Glove Upon That Hand

by PenroseByAnyOtherName



Category: Hololive, Virtual Streamer Animated Characters
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, F/F, Fluff, Implication of beheading, Knight Ollie, Queen Reine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 19:07:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28586940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PenroseByAnyOtherName/pseuds/PenroseByAnyOtherName
Summary: Queen Reine's champion wore a helmet that covered her entire head. Speculation as to the reason was not an uncommon topic within her court.
Relationships: Kureiji Ollie/Pavolia Reine
Kudos: 36





	That I Were a Glove Upon That Hand

The queen’s champion wore a helmet that covered her entire head.

Speculation as to the reason was not an uncommon topic within her court, although the queen did prickle and sigh with distaste to hear it. It was not that she minded, only that she wished they would not do it in her presence.

Nonsense, she said it was, all ridiculous speculation and gossip. Her champion wore the helmet traditional to her people, she would herself not dare question the customs of their nation, and her court should follow such an example. Often said as a gentle hand stroked the rainbow plumage at the back of the helmet, affectionate and slow.

That did not stop her court, nor their idle tongues.

To hide some horrible deformity, one lord said. A scar she gained in battle, the marks of a disease long since battled, or perhaps a defect of her birth. A common rumour to come from such a remark was that she did have a large birthmark that covered much of her face, in the perfect silhouette of a peafowl with its feathers fanned.

It was to disguise that she was truly of a fearsome face, the metal to hide her scowl and furrowed brow. Such a rumour was quickly dismissed, as many had seen delicate hands, and all could see she was slender, too dainty to be so harshly formed.

The champion was really a lich, said a lady, an undead servant risen at the hands of their queen.

Their queen, someone would always retort, could not possess such dark powers as to raise the dead and have its corpse appear fresh and living. The flesh they did see besides was perfectly healthy, flushed with colour and warmth.

The queen took amusement in their guessing, for very few were even remotely close, and she would equally amuse her champion by recounting such frivolous rumours to her in bed.

It was another much discussed topic as to whether the helmet came off when the champion entertained their queen at night. It was no secret the champion was her consort, for they danced at parties and walked the gardens hand on arm, and the young woman had no room of her own.

It must come off, most assumed, but there were those certain that beneath the platinum and peafowl feathers had to be a face the queen knew.

A face the queen had known once, in truth.

None of their imaginings were near so fantastical, nor so unsettling, as the truth.

It was with delicate hands that the queen would lift the helmet from her champion, and with delicate hands that she would put it aside. Such hands would brush shoulders and tidy collars, before rubbing gently at the neck. The queen would smile and hold the woman by the shoulder with one hand, while the other stroked fondly at the locket worn about her neck, a symbol of her everlasting love for her champion.

The champion, one Ollie Kureiji, did sigh and murmur in delight as fingers stroked at her flushed skin, yet she did not smile, nor look up at her with most adoring eyes. Her words did not pass lips or teeth. 

Upon the neck, there was not a head, yet the neck did not end in a bloody stump. It trailed up in a ghostly blue mist that the queen’s fingers drew through in tenderest affection. With a draw of the queen’s hand upwards, the swirling mist took the shape of a most familiar face and wildest curls, and with a laugh the headless champion did rest her phantom cheek upon her queen’s palm.


End file.
